


the nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

by thegrumblingirl



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Companionable Snark, Corvo and Daud are retired, Corvo and Daud have shadowy past careers, Corvo is Miss Marple and Daud is weak to his charms, Curnow is an Inspector, Daud is smol and yet he's the top, Detective Husbands, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Established Corvo/Daud, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Investigations, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Murder Mystery, OT3, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, but they're not international spies (and it shows), guess what grumble killed Teague Martin again, mainly Curnow just wants to get railed the first time he sees them, the porn is skippable, very very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl
Summary: When there's a murder practically down the road, Corvo and Daud Attano (retired) can't help but stick their noses in. It's down to long-suffering Detective Inspector Geoff Curnow to keep them in line, preferablywithoutfalling for them.Fate is rarely that kind.(Divided into chapters so smut can be skipped.)
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud, Corvo Attano/Daud/Geoff Curnow, Corvo Attano/Geoff Curnow, Daud/Geoff Curnow, background Jessamine Kaldwin/Beatrici Attano
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29





	1. If this feelin' flows both ways?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Resri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resri/gifts).



> Soundtrack: [Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpOSxM0rNPM).
> 
> Resri prompted me "True Crime and Disaster Prep Husband go and solve a murder." What then happened is... chaos and escalation.
> 
> Für meine Liebste 😘

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't why this happened, I only know that it did and I'm not mad about it. Curnow just... saw them and all his braincells wandered south. And Corvo just can't keep his nose out of anything, and Daud may insist that his days of not abiding mysteries are over, and yet.......  
> Really, this is just incredibly self-indulgent. So. Indulge me, and: treat yo self!
> 
> Admin note: there's a bit of navigating to do here. I've inserted a link to The Fuckening at the appropriate point. If you'd like to skip the smut, just read Chapter 1 as it is and then go straight to Chapter 3 (epilogue). This chapter does contain the lead-up (kissing) to that scene, jsyk. If you do want the smut, click the link when it pops up and then continue in Chapter 2. The aftermath of the sex scene is the same in Chapter 1 and 2 (with some minor continuity alterations). Have fun! If anyone suddenly grows a third hand during the experience, it's not my fault.

“Honey, get in there and try the jam,” Daud called from the kitchen. He’d been stirring continuously for the past half hour, adding what looked like a tonne of sugar to make the jelly, and his watch told him it was nearly time; so Corvo had to come and judge the results. He heard Corvo shuffle around in the other room, making his way around the furniture and a dozen shelves packed with mystery novels, when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Daud froze, spoon halfway to his own mouth. They weren’t expecting anybody.

“I’ll get it,” Corvo called back. Daud listened as he walked to the front door, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened it. “Yes?”

“Evening. Sorry to disturb you, sir; my name is Detective Inspector Curnow. Do you have a moment?”

Daud laid down the big wooden spoon by the sink and turned down the heat. No use letting the jam burn on the stove. He didn’t wait to be called and left the kitchen to join Corvo by the door. Slotting into place next to him, he got a good look at the DI, and in turn the Inspector at him. He watched as Curnow’s eyes bounced between Corvo’s tall frame, Daud’s broad shoulders and back again. Daud crossed his arms over his chest, the fabric of the apron straining slightly, and Curnow’s eyes seemed to widen.

“This is my husband,” Corvo did his best to impart some sense to the situation.

Curnow visibly collected himself and looked down at his notebook for reprieve. “Mr Corvo and… Daud Attano,” he said, nodding, and made a little checkmark next to their names. He looked up again. “Regrettably, there has been an incident,” he explained. “Teague Martin was found dead in his home earlier tonight.”

Daud only just refrained from pulling a face that very clearly broadcast that he didn’t believe that “incident” quite covered what had happened. If Curnow was watching for reactions, he wouldn’t have much luck with him. Corvo, however—

“Oh! What happened?”

“I imagine he wouldn’t be here, talking to us, if he had the answer to that,” Daud rumbled, and two pairs of eyes turning to him in disapproval. Typical. No sense of humour, these types.

“We’re canvassing the area, checking the neighbouring properties. Did either of you see or hear anything suspicious? Anyone who shouldn’t be here or whom you didn’t recognise?” Curnow asked the usual questions.

Daud shook his head. “I’ve been around the house, haven’t seen anything.”

“Me neither,” Corvo added.

“Anything between the hours of ten and twelve this morning?” Curnow asked. They had a good idea of time of death, then. Next to him, Corvo shifted a little, and Daud allowed himself a smirk.

“Not unless you’re suspecting the killer took a detour through our bedroom.” And there’d definitely been no _hearing_ anything that wasn’t Corvo. But Curnow didn’t need to know that.

“Do you have reason to jump to the conclusion it was murder?” To his credit, Curnow wasn’t so flustered he stopped thinking with his brain entirely; but Daud did observe a subtle dusting of his ears, even in the low light.

“Martin was no saint, though he may have found God in prison,” Daud answered bluntly. Corvo might have found more diplomatic words for it, but Daud wasn’t one to bother.

“Yes, so I’ve been told,” Curnow confirmed. “Any quarrels among the locals recently? Anyone with an axe to grind?”

Corvo shook his head, Daud shrugged.

“Nothing comes to mind. It’s been quiet, actually,” Corvo said.

Curnow hummed, consulted his notepad again, and then sought Daud’s eye. “Martin ever give you any grief personally?” It was obvious what he was driving at, only Daud couldn’t make out the angle. _Personally_.

“Inspector,” Daud drawled, “I’m sure you’ll have noticed that there’s more than one Pride flag planted around these parts. I can’t make any assumptions about Martin, but it appeared that the gay agenda was not something he took issue with.”

Unexpectedly, that drew a brief smile from Curnow before he schooled his expression back into stoic professionalism.

“He was a man with history, and I’ve no doubt drew his fair share of enemies because of it, but he was charming when he wanted to be. He never married, had no children, and at the end of it, he was lonely. If someone did kill him, it was for money.” Daud turned down his chin as though peering at Curnow over the top of his glasses (which he wasn’t wearing). “Anything else?”

In response, Curnow looked to Corvo.

“My husband has opinions,” Corvo said with a shrug, and Daud could _feel_ the amusement rolling off of him. “Which I share,” he clarified. “The greatest danger to Teague Martin was very likely his past, not his present.”

“Common knowledge around here?” Curnow asked. He hadn’t taken any notes so far, which seemed to suggest to Daud that he wasn’t hearing any of this for the first time tonight.

“Just what’s in the papers,” Corvo supplied.

Curnow hummed again. Then, he narrowed his eyes. “Help me out here: how rich, exactly, is this neighbourhood?”

Corvo smiled in that unassuming way that Daud had never quite mastered and that had made him the better field operative by far: “Pretty rich, Inspector.”

*

Curnow had left them with his card, mobile number, and a request to call if they remembered anything that might seem relevant; and now Daud was back in the kitchen, doing his best to salvage the jam.

Corvo, moving between the island and the counter behind him, was practically humming with energy. Daud sighed.

“No,” was all he said.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” Corvo deflected.

“Don’t I?”

“You’re the one who can never abide a mystery,” Corvo reminded him.

“Could,” Daud corrected. “I’m retired. And from what, is none of the Inspector’s business. It’s bad enough _you’re_ the one hoarding mystery novels.”

“ _We’re_ retired, and you can’t tell me that you can all of a sudden sit something out just because you’re getting old.”

Daud raised a brow — Corvo was just trying to get a rise (of a different kind) out of him now.

“What I can’t _abide_ is your hankering for trouble wherever you go,” he said, “incidentally half the reason we’re now married.” To be fair, he did understand. For a lot of his life, Corvo had been getting dragged into things beyond his control constantly. A lot had changed after they’d first met, and Corvo had thoroughly taken advantage of that. Daud didn’t begrudge him that — just the penny novels. Things had been quiet since they’d bought this house. Too quiet?

“I could go and talk to Lizzie and Galia tomorrow,” Corvo suggested innocently.

“Corvo—“

“Just to talk!”

“Corvo. We are _not_ investigating this on our own.” As soon as he said it, Daud knew he’d made a mistake.

“You said ‘we,’” Corvo grinned at him.

“Quit your crowing,” Daud grumbled, not that that had much effect. “Do you really want to spend your time poking around the life and death of that rotten scoundrel?” Daud beckoned for Corvo to have another taste of jam.

“Scoundrel?” Corvo laughed, then licked some jam off the spoon Daud presented him with, smiling and nodding.

“He used to rob people,” Daud said, perhaps a little primly.

“And he didn’t do that anymore,” Corvo pointed out. “He was reformed.”

“For any given definition of the term,” Daud muttered. “Convicted felon or no, he was a decent neighbour, albeit a smarmy git.”

“Oh? I thought he was _charming_ ,” Corvo teased.

“He was, in a smarmy way.” Daud declared the jam good and done and turned down the heat again. At this rate, he’d have to leave the pot out overnight to let it cool.

“What did you think of the Inspector?” Corvo reached around him to steal another spoonful of jam and pressed a sticky kiss to Daud’s shoulder on the way.

“Competent enough. When he can stop staring,” Daud rumbled, recalling Curnow’s obvious surprise and then, if he wasn’t mistaken, nerves.

“It got worse when you came to the door,” Corvo leered.

“Stop it,” Daud took him by the hips and turned him around, on their way out of the kitchen. He untied the apron and hung it from a little hook by the door.

“Jess always says, if she weren’t gay…” Corvo trailed off, knowing full well Daud would be rolling his eyes behind him. (And he was.)

“Are you really relying on the questionable wisdom of the woman who married you sister?” Daud returned, this trading of cheap shots between them well rehearsed.

Corvo made a dismissive sound and led them to the living room instead. “Still,” he said when they’d settled down on the couch, Daud’s back to his chest and Corvo’s arms wrapped around Daud waist. “There’s something not right about Martin.”

“You mean beside the fact he’d dead?” Daud couldn’t help himself and received a pinch for his trouble. He growled, only half-joking. “ _Corvo_.” He didn’t mean the pinch — he meant what lurked behind it.

“Just a little look,” Corvo cajoled. Unrepentant, and without shame.

“You mean _snooping_.” At least Daud couldn’t see his face, so Corvo couldn’t test his puppy dog eyes on him. The man wasn’t above dirty tricks.

“Details.” Corvo was quiet for a moment. “Like the old days, huh?”

Daud scoffed. “Traipsing through a village pretending to be solving a murder is _nothing_ like the old days.”

“Could have been.”

“Corvo, the jobs we had—“

“I know, I know,” Corvo stopped him, brushing his hand down Daud’s side. “But… have you never thought about it? What we could do, now that we’re not bound by the oath anymore?”

“The oath still bounds us, Corvo,” Daud reminded him. “That’s the point of calling it an contract. And part of it is not getting in the way of the police.”

Behind him, Corvo sighed; but Daud knew him too well to presume it meant conceding defeat.

Old habits never died. Not this kind.

*

Two nights later, he found himself trailing after Corvo as they broke into Teague Martin’s (deceased) house. Really, this shouldn’t surprise anybody. Corvo had always had that way about him, from the first day they’d met at the Chamber. Paperwork had certainly never been dull.

“This is Vera’s birthday all over again,” Daud hissed as Corvo climbed over the back fence of the property, in order to open the gate for Daud to follow. “Only with less murder. Presumably.” It was better never to go into the file room after dark.

“How is this anything like that?” Corvo whispered back.

“Well, you get dragged into it and then I get dragged into it, against my better judgment,” Daud said as he brushed past Corvo, through the gate. “Thanks, by the way.” Daud didn’t like heights, not even six foot fences.

“Any time,” Corvo replied, immediately adding, “not that I’m already angling for there to be a next time, you know. Breaking and entering.”

Daud narrowed his eyes at him. “You know, you weren’t so goddamn polite the first time you invited yourself up to my place.”

Even in the dark, he could sense Corvo’s grin. “You were a lot more eager that night.”

Fair enough. Still, Daud grumbled to himself unintelligibly as he walked up to the house, knowing it would amuse Corvo.

“You ever been in here?” he asked over his shoulder.

“No, not once. I’m not even sure if Martin completely kept himself to himself or whether he was friends with anyone else around here.”

“I think he played cards with some of the old geezers,” Daud said while he jimmied open the back door lock — embarrassingly easily, and he was rusty. Somehow he’d expected better security from a former robbery agent. He shrugged to himself, and opened the door.

“What, Havelock and Trimble?” Corvo stepped inside after him. “I didn’t even know those two were friends.”

“I called Lizzie, she had some details, though not much.” Daud let his torch flicker along the kitchen walls for a moment. “Alright, what are we looking for?”

*

They’d been rooting through Martin’s last earthly possessions for maybe twenty minutes before Daud stopped what he was doing, and shushed Corvo, who was on the other side of the room.

“What is it?”

“I heard something move downstairs.” Daud motioned for Corvo to turn off the flashlights, and a second later they were alone in the dark. Ears straining to hear, Daud inched closer to the door leading out onto the landing, then stopped when he heard it again.

Footsteps, definitely. _Shit_. The killer, returned to destroy evidence or steal whatever they’d been looking for in the first place?

“Someone’s here,” he warned Corvo.

“Run or hide?” Corvo asked, but then Daud shrank away from the doorway when there was someone coming up the stairs. Considering that they’d started in Martin’s study, albeit not the scene of the murder, that was very likely where whoever it was would be heading first, too.

“No time,” Daud hissed, “get back.”

Corvo moved to the other side, by the far wall and the desk, and got down. Daud flattened himself against the wall by the door for cover. The footsteps came closer, and closer, until someone walked right into the room, their torch pointing at the spot Corvo had just left. They didn't have a weapon in the other hand, Daud registered _just_ before he pounced. He seized the person’s nearest wrist, pinning their arm to their side. Then, he rushed them against the other wall, turning them so their back collided with the brick, and brought up his arm to press against their windpipe so they couldn’t cry out.

It all happened in seconds, and with their visitor still dazed after thudding into the wall. Thankfully they appeared entirely unarmed, but Daud used the moment to shift more of his bulk against them, trapping them against the wall.

Corvo flicked on the overhead light with a switch he must have found by the desk. Slowly, Daud’s eyes adjusted, and then widened when he realised that their would-be assailant was none other than DI Curnow, in the flesh. Oh, good.

“Attano,” the Inspector wheezed. He made no move to push him off. And… his pupils were blown wide as he stared at Daud, even in the now brightly-lit room. _Oh_.

Curnow set his hand on Daud’s bicep and squeezed, and Daud needed a moment to remember to let go. He stepped back and raised his hands for good measure, just in case Curnow felt inclined to shoot him, after all. Curnow wrapped a hand around his own throat and rubbed at the skin, but he didn’t look like a man willing away a threatening touch. More like chasing the sensation.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Curnow rasped. Daud felt a tug in his gut that he might have to discuss with Corvo. _Later_.

“It’s my fault,” Corvo spoke up when Daud seemed to be collecting his wits. “I got curious.”

“ _Curious?_ ” Curnow echoed incredulously, now drawing himself up to his full height. As he’d been standing two steps down on their doorstep, Daud had not quite realised how _tall_ he was. Not as tall as Corvo, but taller than Daud by some margin. “You realise that breaking and entering at a crime scene puts you squarely _back_ on the suspects’ list, Mr Attano? Up until now, I had felt comfortable in ruling you and your husband” — at this, Curnow very resolutely did not glance in Daud’s direction — “out of my inquiry. But here you are, tripping the silent alarm. Security firm called me.”

“And you still do feel comfortable, otherwise you wouldn’t have just told us,” Daud cut in, privately enjoying the way as muscle in Curnow’s jaw jumped when he spoke, low and rumbling. (Corvo had been quite right, then.)

Curnow sighed.

*

At the _front_ gate to the dead man’s house, Curnow waved them off.

“Go home,” he ordered, looking tired and weary, and Daud momentarily felt bad for making the man’s night even longer. But then Corvo interrupted his thoughts as they walked; Curnow still watching them from up the street.

Corvo reached for his hand, and Daud intertwined their fingers.

“So… he liked that, huh?”

Daud should’ve known that Corvo had immediately clocked everything that had just passed between him and the DI — whatever it had been, on the surface or underneath. He smirked.

“He did.”

Corvo hummed. “Did you?”

A thornier question, potentially, but Daud saw no reason not to be honest. “I did.” Turning to Corvo, he added, “Did _you?_ ”

Corvo grinned, now, too. He nodded.

Daud’s mouth went a little dry. Well, then.

*

That night, they went home, as the detective ordered, and then to bed, where they made love and Daud found out the soft and loving way that Corvo did, in fact, like watching him manhandle handsome policemen. And then murmuring in his ear about it. In the morning, they ate a leisurely breakfast — including some sweet jam — and then received a call. Corvo answered the landline.

“Hello?” He listened for a moment, then said, “Hold on, Inspector,” and put the phone on speaker.

“Mr Attano?” Curnow’s voice came through.

“Both of them,” Daud said from the door to the pantry.

“Ah,” Curnow sounded out, as though resigned to having to deal with both of them at every turn. “I only called to let you know that your bout of delinquency last night has been noted in the case files, but the prosecution service will not be pressing charges,” Curnow told them. “On my recommendation, might I add.”

Corvo and Daud exchanged a glance.

“Thank you, Inspector,” Corvo said politely, and Daud raised a brow at the honey in his voice. _Trying a little too hard, no?_

“Don’t start,” Curnow’s reproach followed on its heels. “I’d also appreciate it if you could continue to stay the hell _out_ of my case. I have techs sweeping the house again today, and if you could keep out of their way it would be so kind.”

Daud would have called it passive-aggressive if not for the thick layer of sarcasm. In the Inspector’s soft baritone, it seemed less harsh — and he was sure that Curnow knew it, too. If he truly wanted to intimidate them, he would, and they’d _know it_. Daud would have quite liked to see him try.

Corvo had evidently come to the same conclusion, as he answered, “Are you feeding that line to all your suspects? For a trap, it’s rather obvious.”

Daud chimed in with, “See, Curnow, you do trust us.”

Curnow sighed down the line, and the way the sound echoed told Daud that he did _not_ have them on speaker, and was rather keeping this call on the quiet. “It’s not bad enough I’m running into red tape, I’m also having to put up with you two.”

Corvo frowned. “Red tape? What do you mean? Are parts of Martin’s criminal record sealed?”

Daud frowned, too. He’d never heard of Martin being tried as a juvenile. A few seconds passed in silence. Twenty coin that Curnow hadn’t meant to say that.

“It’s none of your concern, Mr Attano. Leave the investigation to the professionals. We’ll contact you if we have any further questions.”

The call ended abruptly, and Daud wondered if Curnow might have been interrupted. When he turned to Corvo, there was that glint in his eye again.

“Corvo…” It felt like a grand old déjà-vu.

“We could help Curnow get past some of that red tape,” Corvo said while playing with the handle of his coffee mug almost idly. _Almost_.

It was Daud’s turn to sigh, and to take a big sip of his own coffee. He’d need it.

*

They held out one whole day — or rather Daud did, until Corvo wore him down. He wasn’t proud of it. He’d not been this weak to Corvo’s powers of persuasion since he’d talked him into modelling for Corvo’s life painting class.

In the nude.

Jessamine and Beatrici had laughed at him for weeks.

As easy as Corvo made it sound, they did not, in point of fact, still have their old security clearance. They could not simply waltz into any court building and demand access to their files. They could, however, make use of some old connections. It shouldn’t be so easy to get past Karl and into the deed poll registry from where they were planing on making their way up to kataster, but here they were. All they’d had to do was invent a story about looking into selling their house and buying another property, and just wanting to be _sure_ that the seller was above board. Karl really was too trusting.

They’d just worked their way up to Martin’s deed records and birth certificate when the door to the archive room opened and there was Karl — and a rather familiar-sounding voice.

“What do you mean _they_ didn’t mention that there’s been a tragedy in the neighbourhood?”

Oh, _balls_.

The Inspector didn’t even have the bottle to look surprised when Karl directed him to where Corvo and Daud were rummaging through court documents like rodents through the bins behind a restaurant.

“Would you leave us, please?” he asked deceptively softly, and Karl had the good sense, at least, not to ask why. Instead, he turned on his heel and fled the room, shutting the door with a rather foreboding click. Curnow stared at them, they stared at him. For a moment, none of them said anything, and the only noise was Corvo sliding a file back into place. It slipped off the hanger system and hit the bottom of the filing cabinet drawer with a somewhat hollow _thunk_. “Would you like to explain to me what you’re doing here, or should I simply arrest you?” Curnow asked, visibly grieved, and his voice a pleasant octave darker for the authority in his tone. Daud feared that this trespass wouldn’t be quite so easily explained away.

“The Freedom of Information Act—“ Corvo began, and Curnow didn’t even let him _finish_.

“Gives you no right to insert yourselves into my investigation and interfere with crucial documents. You are jeopardising the integrity of the evidence,” Curnow lectured. Stern, Daud found, was a good look on him. Still, both he and Corvo knew when they’d been beaten at their own game. Daud had landed a lucky hit on Curnow the week before, but this time he had them dead to rights. He had one more ace up his sleeve, though.

“Did you get your warrant, then, Inspector?” Daud grated, lowly so Karl couldn’t overhear. These walls were thin.

Curnow, tellingly, didn’t answer, his gaze sliding away. Daud used the opening to take a step closer.

“We could help you find what you’re looking for,” he murmured. At that, Curnow’s eyes darted back up at him. His expression shifted from startled to furious, and Daud would bet it was a fifty-fifty toss-up between anger at Daud for suggesting it and at himself for considering it.

“You’re leaving,” he snapped, wrenching himself away and opening the door. “I’ll drive behind you to make sure you’re going home.”

Daud cast a bemused look over his shoulder at Corvo, who closed the cabinet and shrugged. Far more obediently than was their won’t, they followed Curnow out of the building — Karl nowhere to be seen on their way out, which was perhaps a blessing — and out to their respective cars. Neither party said another word.

“Do you think he’ll follow us all the way?” Corvo asked as they buckled in.

“I hope so,” Daud pronounced darkly. He was curious whether the Inspector’s _mood_ might endure the journey.

*

When they arrived at the house, they had barely time to get out of the car before Curnow pulled in behind them. He didn’t look _quite_ as pissed off as he had at the courthouse.

“You’re not off the hook,” he called across the driveway. He stood in the open car door for a moment, but then stepped aside, slammed it shut, and walked up to them. “What were you two thinking?” His gaze flipped between them as thought he could not decide who to blame for the inception of the scheme, and who then deserved his wrath for going along with it. “And don’t tell me you were _helping_.”

Neither of them said anything.

Curnow scowled. “Nothing? You’re not usually short of excuses.”

Daud answered, “You said not to tell you we were helping.”

Curnow dropped his head for a moment, and Daud empathised with the heaviness of his sigh, he did.

“You are already implicated for breaking into the deceased’s house, if the Deputy Commissioner finds out that you charmed your way into Martin’s records before I could catch you—“

“Except he won’t, because that would mean telling him that you had the same idea as we did,” Daud interrupted him. “All that red tape still bothering you?”

Curnow’s shoulders slumped a little further in defeat, and Daud had a feeling there were two very different impulses at war within him.

“Look, I appreciate your _initiative_ ,” Curnow ground out, which seemed to cause him physical pain albeit perhaps not for the reasons one would expect, “but—“

“Would you like to come in?” Corvo cut him off, surprising both Curnow and Daud. “Us standing out here in the open like this won’t help matters, either.”

Gratifyingly, Curnow visibly fought with himself before shaking his head. Then, he looked to the sky as though despairing of his fate, and sighed, “I shouldn’t be here.” Past that, he fixed them with another stern look. “No visits to the courthouse. No more helping. No more trespassing. My people and I will solve this case, and you will you stay out of it. Is that clear?”

Daud did his best to hide a smirk.

“Of course, Inspector.”

Beside him, Corvo nodded.

“Look, I will call you, alright?” Curnow made an unexpected peace offering. “But for your own sakes _and mine_ , leave the case alone. If you remember anything that might be significant, just call me. You have my number.”

“Yes, Inspector,” Corvo said pleasantly.

Curnow looked pained.

*

It turned out that the time for a phone call came much sooner than anticipated. That night, Corvo suddenly sat up straight in bed, reaching for Daud’s shoulder.

“Do you remember the van?” Corvo asked while Daud was still blinking blearily in the dark.

“What van?” he mumbled.

“The van that was parked down the street for a while the weeks before,” Corvo said, voice scratchy from sleep. “And we didn’t recognise it, but you figured it was a construction company from out of town for a specialist job.”

“And?” Daud sat up, rubbing his eye. Corvo flicked on the bedside lights.

“What if it _was_ a specialist job. We have to tell Curnow.”

And before Daud could do anything, Corvo was up and out of bed.

“Corvo, I can’t even remember the name that was on it,” Daud called after him, but Corvo didn’t answer. Daud strained to listen and thought he could hear Corvo rummaging in the study down the hall. A minute later, he came back, carrying a little notepad. He had a dozen of those lying around, everywhere.

“I can,” Corvo said, looking far too awake, shaking the notepad by its close.

“You wrote it _down_? Who are you, Miss Marple?” Daud asked incredulously.

Corvo sent him a look but didn’t dignify that with a reply. “You call Curnow,” he said, gesturing for Daud’s phone. “I’m gonna find the name.”

“It’s two in the morning,” Daud reminded him, “and this is hardly an emergency.”

“We promised the Inspector we’d call him if we remembered anything else,” Corvo said with a twinkle in his eye. Daud squinted at him.

“You just want to see if you can get away with it,” Daud accused, but without heat. He picked up his phone, and scrolled until he found Curnow’s number. He sent one more arched-brow look in Corvo’s direction, just to say, ‘On your head be it;’ then, he dialled and put the call on speaker.

It didn’t take long for Curnow to answer, possibly owed to being a light sleeper at the best of times, moreso while in the middle of an investigation; but he sounded delightfully sleepy when the line connected.

“Mr and Mr Attano,” he mumbled gruffly, and in the background there was bustling as thought he was either pushing to sit up or pulling the covers up to his chin out of spite. “It’s my night off and I am very much hoping you did not get stuck breaking and entering again.”

“We found something,” Daud said gruffly. “Or at least my darling husband believes he did.”

“Shush,” Corvo admonished lazily, not bothering to lower his voice or cover the mic, then said to Curnow, “Inspector, there was a van parked down the road a few times during the weeks leading up to Martin’s death. It had the name of a construction company on it, but it wasn’t local.”

“Do you remember the name?” Curnow asked, now all professional and serious on top of sleepy.

“He wrote it down,” Daud interjected, well aware he’d get pinched again sooner rather than later. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for Curnow’s response.

“ _Attaboy_ ,” the Inspector said, low and pleased, and Corvo and Daud both stilled. _Oh_.

Corvo cleared his throat. “Do you have a pen?”

More rustling. “Go ahead.”

“Rothwild Constructions, out of Samara, it said.”

“Samara?” Curnow echoed. “ _Definitely_ not local. Anything else?”

“I didn’t take down the number, sorry.”

Curnow hummed. “No matter. If they’re legit, they’ll be in the phonebook.” No-one said anything for a moment. As the silence grew longer, Daud imagined Curnow taking notes on his own little notepad. “Is there anything else?” Curnow asked at length, and Daud thought he sounded almost hopeful.

Corvo darted a glance at Daud. “No, Inspector. We’re sorry for disturbing you so late.”

“No, you’re not,” Curnow returned, amused. “And don’t be. Not if it’s going to solve my case.” He sounded exhausted, too.

“Speaking of,” Corvo said, “will you keep us posted?”

“You get the local paper, don’t you?” Curnow shot back, but before Corvo was forced to figure out a way of _persuading_ the Inspector without the visual aid of his big brown eyes, Curnow continued: “How about when this is done, I’ll swing by the neighbourhood after releasing the crime scene to the realtor and you can have me for breakfast.”

Corvo’s eyes widened _just a little_ and Daud couldn’t help the sharkish grin now splitting his face.

“Happily,” he drawled.

Corvo gave a small sound of delighted distress, and this distracted Daud long enough to give Curnow time to revisit what he’d just said.

“Please go back to sleep,” he sighed, tone defeated, and Daud had to take pity on him. At least a little.

“See you, Inspector. Good night.”

Well. Not too much pity.

After hanging up, they sorted themselves out. Corvo tucked his notebook and pen into the nightstand why Daud stowed his phone and waited for Corvo to make himself comfortable before he turned out the lights on his side. And then, they lay awake.

“Do you think he sleeps shirtless?” Corvo asked without preamble.

Daud huffed and, relinquishing the notion of soon going back to sleep, rolled over to face Corvo. “C’mere.”

*

They didn’t hear anything from Curnow for the next week, but they weren’t worried. It was just a question of when, not if.

On the eleventh day, their doorbell rang just after ten in the morning. Daud went to open up and found a somewhat bedraggled Curnow, evidently caught out by the rain that’d been coming down for the past twenty minutes.

“I forgot my umbrella,” he said sheepishly.

Daud had already stepped aside to let him in.

“Let me take your coat,” he said simply. Curnow seemed a little anxious, so he decided to put him at ease. The courteous gesture seemed to only worsen the returning light dusting of the tips of Curnow’s ears, though. Still, he handed over his coat.

“That’ll take a while to dry,” Daud murmured, and going by the way he could _hear_ Curnow’s breath stutter behind him as he turned to the hallways wardrobe, his efforts weren’t serving a calming purpose at all.

Whoops.

“Who is it?” Corvo called from the top of the stairs, then made his way down. “Inspector!” he said, with a broad grin, when he spotted him. “You solved the case.” It had been in the news that morning — the arrest, at least. Some high-flying lawyer. Daud had never liked Timsh.

“With your help,” Curnow smiled a little, rubbing the back of his neck. Daud ducked into the airing cupboard and wordlessly handed him a small towel. Curnow accepted it gratefully and used it to dry his hair. The rain had turned it a little curly, and a few strands were escaping the comb. Daud followed them with his eyes. “Thank you for that. Less so for the trespassing, _twice_ —“

“Would you like some French toast?” Daud interrupted him. “You’re very welcome to enumerate our shortcomings over second breakfast.”

Caught between Corvo on his left and Daud’s bulk on his right, Curnow seemed to fight with himself once again. Then, he nodded. Daud almost reached out to tug him along into the kitchen, but decided it was too early for that. Corvo would have to serve as sheepdog; and he did the job admirably, nudging Curnow forward with only a look as he made to follow Daud.

They got through making the toast without any accidents, and it was only when they sat down at the kitchen table, Curnow on one side, Corvo on the other, and Daud at the head that Curnow seemed ready to bolt.

“Alright?” Daud asked quietly.

Curnow took a deep breath, and then nodded.

“You’re not locked into anything,” Corvo said from Daud’s other side. Reassuring.

Curnow’s shoulders lost their tension. “I know,” he said, and his smile was warm and genuine. “Just can’t quite believe it. That I’d be here, that is. Almost decided against it, but… curiosity killed the cat, I suppose.”

“You know there’s a second part to that expression,” Daud pointed out.

Curnow raised a brow at him, bolder now. “I’m counting on it.”

*

They made what passed for light conversation as they ate; seeing as Curnow told them what he could of the case and the eventual discovery that led to solving it.

“So Timsh used Rothwild to have Martin killed, because after all these years, Martin smelled one last score and couldn’t resist?” Corvo had abandoned his plate in favour of staring at Curnow.

“Not so much a highway robbery as blackmail and extortion, but yes. Martin apparently thought that the threat of public embarrassment would be enough to get Timsh to pay up,” Curnow nodded. “And it was — just not the way Martin would have liked.”

Daud would have to agree: whatever Martin’s scheme had been, it had backfired spectacularly.

“Timsh only couldn’t have foreseen that Rothwild thought using one of his own vans as a cover would give him an alibi rather than implicate him in the first place, when we figured out the order papers he served us were fake,” Curnow added, sounding a little pleased with himself.

“Smug, Inspector?” Daud teased, and he could tell by the look Curnow sent him that he didn’t think it much of a challenge to be better. Or the bigger person.

“He thought he could get one over on me,” was all Curnow said, a hint of rough in his voice; and Daud shifted in his seat.

This was only compounded when Curnow licked his lips and, not catching all of it, brushed his thumb over his own bottom lip to wipe off some butter and crumbs, tugging at it until it reddened; and instead of just brushing off his hand on his napkin, took the digit into his mouth to suck it off. Daud and Corvo _both_ shifted restlessly at that.

Daud should be embarrassed, perhaps, or at least self-conscious — it had never been like this with anyone _except_ Corvo, and it had taken Daud a little time to settle into it comfortably and with appetite. (The pivotal moment had been Corvo cornering him in the description room and inviting him out for dinner. From then on, he hadn’t made much of a secret of his fascination. To everyone on the outside, it had been ‘office romance.’ To him, it had been _hunger_.) To find it awaken anew at the presence of someone else after _years_ was more than a surprise — even moreso to learn that Corvo felt the same.

Fate made such strange proclamations, Daud’s mother would have said to that; but Daud wasn’t sure he believed in fate. Not even now.

*

When they were done, Curnow insisted on helping with the dishes, though one by one Corvo and Daud plucked them from his hands. Curnow had the gall to _pout_ , and Daud used the opportunity given to him by Corvo turning to rinse the cups and plates and pans to stack them in the dishwasher to subtle manoeuvre the Inspector into the corner between the counter and the sink with barely a touch to his hips. Curnow tensed when he realised their position, with Daud right in front of him, his lower back pressed into solid wood, and Daud unashamed of using his bulk to keep him there despite their difference in height. There was no unease in his gaze, Daud noted, pleased: only anticipation, coiling tight. Daud felt the answering tug in his gut; but he’d made no move to close the distance. Curnow had to reel him in. It was his call.

The man flicked a glance at Corvo, and whatever he found there over Daud’s shoulder made him swallow thickly. Daud watched his Adam’s apple bob with it, and felt heat pool behind his navel, dipping lower. Then, before he could say anything encouraging, Curnow curled his fingers into Daud’s shirt and _pulled_. Daud went easily, knew how to tilt his body up and into it, and when he sealed his mouth over Curnow’s and sucked on his bottom lip, Curnow made a wounded noise high in his throat.

 _Good_. Daud could taste the coffee on his lips, and underneath the herbs from their late breakfast.

Corvo tapped Daud’s shoulder when he was done with the dishes, and Daud reluctantly let up on Curnow; leaning back and taking him in, however, proved a reward. Lips plump and bitten, his cheeks a little flushed, and his eyes dark with want, Daud thought Curnow looked _lovely_.

Corvo leaned in around Daud, and Curnow made that sound again when Corvo swept his tongue over his lips before delving into his mouth. Daud felt a groan building in his own chest when one of Curnow’s hands left him and curled around Corvo’s neck instead, keeping him close. Corvo was a little taller than Curnow still, but not by much, and it gratified Daud quite a bit to see that Curnow was more aggressive with him than he’d been with Daud.

 _Attaboy_. Curnow licked into Corvo’s mouth, slick and gasping. Yes, they’d get along _nicely_.

“Curnow,” Daud rumbled when they parted for breath, but Curnow shook his head. The colour stood even higher on his cheeks now, and the tip of his tongue darted out to chase Corvo’s taste.

“Geoff,” he breathed, shifting when Corvo set a hand on his waist, catching in the fabric of his shirt to give it an experimental tug. Curnow’s hips shifted, thighs opening as though waiting for Daud to move in closer, press himself up against his front and make sure they both knew how much heat the other felt.

“Ok,” Corvo said, and Daud nodded.

“Geoff,” he said in the same tone, and Curnow _shuddered_. “There’s no point of no return in this, because we can stop at any time. But the bedroom is upstairs, so if you’d rather stay down here and not take this further, now would be a good time to tell us what you want.”

Curnow — Geoff — swallowed again, but he didn’t seen intimidated by the choice put before him. Rather the opposite.

“Show me,” was all he said, confirming what Daud had known about him from the start. Dog with a bone. He leaned up again to steal a soft, deceptively chaste kiss from Curnow; not meaning for it to deepen but caught by Geoff drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it, then dragging the flat of his tongue across to soothe the sting. It punched Daud’s breath out of him when he was released, and he hummed.

“One word of warning.” He paused solely for effect. “Corvo’s a lazy top.” He wouldn’t yet mention the talents of Corvo’s mouth, he thought, smirking.

The reproachful looks they both sent him were _filthy_.

[ **[divert here for smut; rest of the chapter is the same in both]** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739387/chapters/73147527/)

*****

When Corvo at length conceded that they were getting too heavy, Daud rolled away, half managing to take Geoff with him, and all three of them ended up in an ungainly, panting sprawl across the bed. Absently, Daud noted that they may need a bigger one. Then, he noted that he was getting ahead of himself.

Geoff shifted to turn onto his stomach.

“I… need a shower.”

Corvo, who arguably had expended the least amount of energy, chuckled lowly from where he’d sunk into the pillows.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Corvo and Geoff collected themselves, Geoff surprising Daud by leaning over to steal a kiss before getting up. Daud held him there for a moment before letting him go to clean up. Corvo let his fingertips trail over Daud’s flank, then got off the bed, tugging Geoff along. Daud flopped back onto the bed, taking another deep breath and letting his thoughts wander for a minute. That had been… eye-opening.

He listened as Corvo got Curnow situated in the bathroom, explaining the shower settings and where the towels were if he needed more. Then, there was quiet for a moment, and Daud smiled when he realised that they were probably kissing some more. Eventually, though, they seemed to be able to tear themselves away, and Corvo came back into the bedroom just as the shower turned on.

“Help you change the sheets?” Corvo offered.

Daud nodded. He got up, and reached for Corvo’s waist. Meeting him halfway, Corvo bent down to catch him in a kiss.

“Alright?” Daud asked, then stretched up for another. Corvo hummed against him.

“Always.” Then, Corvo let go of him and turned towards the dresser, still naked as the day he was born. They’d have to clean up, too, before putting any fresh clothes on, but they could turn down the bed proper now.

“How did he seem?” Daud asked while he went to take off the old covers.

“A little dazed,” Corvo said, sounding amused. “Like he can’t quite believe that just happened, but definitely not unhappy about it.”

Daud smiled. “Good.”

Corvo watched him for a moment while unfolding the fresh sheets. “You seem very pleased with yourself.”

“Did all the hard work, didn’t I?” Daud lobbed back.

Corvo grinned. “You certainly did. If he could be persuaded, I wouldn’t mind Geoff passing some of that on to me…”

Daud was about to answer but then realised that the shower had stopped going already. Not wanting Curnow to come back and find them gossiping, certainly not about a _repeat performance_ that none of them had discussed, Daud kept his counsel and kept working, instead. Between them, he and Corvo made quick work of the bedding, and when Geoff padded into the room, a towel slung over his hips and rubbing another over his hair, they were nearly done.

“Be right back,” they told him, Daud taking the soiled sheets into the bathroom to stick them into the hamper and Corvo hopping under the shower ahead of him.

They made quick work of that, too, their clean-up a little less involved, and returned to find Geoff sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a little uncertain. Daud smiled at him and, without much preamble, nudged him further up onto the mattress. As before, Geoff let himself be manhandled, but started a little when he realised that Daud meant for him to get under the covers.

“It’s barely afternoon,” he objected, bemused.

“You got somewhere else to be?” Daud asked simply, unceremoniously rolling him into the middle between himself and Corvo.

Curnow snorted softly, but settled against them, sighing softly when Daud tangled their legs together and Corvo wrapped a heavy arm around his waist; drawing him closer for a shallow press of lips.

And so they stayed in bed for a while, trading kisses and the odd gentle caress. There were moments when Geoff seemed skittish, or at least a little shy, but either Corvo or Daud made sure to reassure him that he was precisely where they wanted him to be. They didn’t talk much, not yet wanting to disturb the quiet air, heavy like a cocoon but not oppressive.

When Curnow’s stomach rumbled, however, he flushed. Daud was halfway ready to roll out of bed to make them all some late lunch or very early dinner, but something in Geoff’s expression held him still.

“I should go,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long week.”

Corvo and Daud’s eyes met over the top of his head, and then Corvo leaned in to press a kiss to his exposed neck. It served to leech some of the newly-risen tension out of Geoff’s frame.

“Of course,” Daud said. “But you’re welcome any time. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner.”

Curnow smiled softly. “Okay.”

“Call us?” Corvo asked quietly.

Curnow nodded.

Daud was sad to see him leave, but content to let him go if it meant he’d take some time to himself and consider his wants.

[ **[for epilogue, go to chapter 3]** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739387/chapters/73147815/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my boys. :'DDD


	2. Have you no idea that you're in deep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fuckening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be dicks! Mind the tags.
> 
> The afterglow part's the same as in Chapter 1, so you can jump from this one into Chapter 3 (epilogue) without going back.

Daud divested Geoff of his clothes and burdens while Corvo turned down the bed. Phones were off for good measure (well, not Curnow's, but Daud swore to himself that if this were to be interrupted by a murder, he’d solve the problem _quick_ ). Daud smoothed his hands over Curnow’s chest, lean muscles rolling under his touch, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then pushed him back onto the bed, until he was settled against Corvo, between his long legs spread wide, Corvo’s hands all over him and Daud braced above him, teasing with lips and teeth and tongue. He bit and licked at the skin, sucking until blood rose to the surface, feeling the heat of it. The thrill of someone new — not that he’d ever grow bored of Corvo — was found in Daud’s want to learn the secrets of his skin, and share his own. Share Corvo’s, too; and find beauty in surrender.

Above him, Geoff groaned. “How are you two so _built_? It’s insulting.”

Daud huffed, and Corvo curved a hand over Geoff’s bicep.

“And you’re not?”

“I catch killers and thieves for a living, what’s your excuse?” Curnow groused.

“Pencil-pushing,” Daud grated, leveraging himself up to bite at Geoff’s collarbone, the skin reddening obediently. “And seducing handsome detectives.” _Who were delightfully responsive_. He kissed him again, slow and rough not with force but in technique, more focused on dragging his lips and tongue against Curnow’s to get them slick and red rather than bothering with finesse.

Privately, Daud wouldn’t have minded setting Geoff loose on Corvo and watching, taking himself in hand, but it was rude to make the guest do all the work — at least on the first visit. Next time… Oh, with the way Geoff was writhing underneath him, Daud fervently hoped there’d be a next time. Daud closed his mouth on a nipple, tonguing the tip, the coarse skin pebbling at the attention.

“Jesus,” Geoff bit out, and it sounded both miserably aroused and exasperated. “Just… Daud.” Geoff set a hand at the back of Daud’s neck, fingers flexing, digging into the muscle when Daud raised his head.

“Yes?” Waiting.

Curnow tilted his head back against Corvo’s shoulder, arching towards Daud, now sliding his hand down to his chest, rubbing his palm over a nipple, sending a shiver through Daud. “Just _ruin me_.”

“As you wish.”

Daud shifted down and down and down, nipping at heated skin on the way, feeling Curnow’s breath hitch, hearing him sigh, muffled when he turned his head into Corvo’s neck. Daud set a trail of kisses along the line of Curnow’s hips, inching closer and closer to his prize. Hips bucked in anticipation, unabashedly telling him where Curnow wanted him, and in the corner of his eye Daud saw Corvo’s hands wrap over Geoff’s hips, holding on. Holding him down. Curnow might yet not be sure what was coming, but Corvo knew. Discontent to wait any longer, Daud took Geoff’s cock into his mouth, already curving up towards his stomach. The weight of it on his tongue and the salty tip so different from Corvo’s, but quite alike in length and girth. Cataloguing these differences went on almost without Daud’s permission, so he resolved to find all the ways that Curnow could be made to unravel that were unique to _him_. Daud took him shallowly at first, finding the underside with the tip of his tongue, pressing in; his reward a muffled grunt. A long lick, a sweep up the shaft, suckling the cockhead almost lazily, and Curnow _whined_. Daud relaxed the back of his throat and took him nearly to the root on his next breath, and groaned at the shout and thrust of the hips it earned him.

“Easy,” he heard Corvo gentle Geoff quietly, who moaned in response. If he was beyond words already, what might they be able to reduce him to between them…

Daud would have been happy to keep going, but he felt Curnow was ready for more. He reached for the lube haphazardly thrown onto the bed by Corvo and slicked up his fingers. Carefully, he trailed the tip of a finger under Geoff’s cock, past his balls, and to his entrance. He rubbed a slow, slick circle into the skin there, and looked up at Curnow’s face; finding him already fixing him with a stare that settled heavy on Daud’s shoulders.

Geoff gave a quick nod.

Daud gently slid in to the first knuckle, then another. Let Geoff breathe through it, into it, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the small tremor in his abdomen. Daud pushed inside him, and Curnow bit out his next breath with a low, choked noise. Daud splayed his fingers on the inside of his thigh, bracing him.

“Alright?” he rumbled low.

Another nod from Curnow, and Daud began preparing him. Still slow, deliberate, but unmistakeable in his goal. He added a second twisting finger to the heat, crooking the tips, then a third, much to Curnow’s delight; but when Daud clamped a thumb and finger of his other hand around the base of Curnow’s shaft, he huffed, hips jolting, and scowled.

“Not yet,” Daud rasped.

Curnow’s expression turned to helpless lust, however, when Daud gave Corvo a nod and Corvo hoisted Geoff up a little on his lap, trapping his cock underneath Geoff’s ass. Daud, rubbing the thumb over the tip of Corvo’s length, spread more lube over him and, keeping an eye on Curnow, guided him inside. His own cock pulsed as he watched their bodies join. Daud knew the shape of Corvo’s cock inside him. He knew the slow, heavy stretch of it, that feeling of hot breath being pressed out of him as he desperately tried to take in more air. (They did not switch often, but when they did, it was a treat for both of them; even though Corvo was a lazy bastard.)

“Slowly,” Daud cautioned, although in this position, Corvo was hardly going to go any faster. Rocking up into Curnow with subdued power but no less intent, Corvo continued to hold onto his hips. Daud, keeping his fingers wrapped around the root, took him in again. Sucking in earnest, Daud felt Geoff’s cock grow heavier on his tongue, and tasted the fluid collecting at the tip.

Together, they found a rhythm, bit by bit, until Curnow, muffled by his own hand, _begged_ for harder, more, faster. He was flushed, his chest heaving, and Daud gentled him with a firm touch that he bucked into anyhow. Daud spread Geoff’s legs a little wider, to be able to _see_ , and rubbed a thumb over the skin behind his balls, brushing against the heat of Corvo’s cock. Corvo grunted, encouraging, and Curnow _mewled_ , so Daud did it again.

He flicked his eyes up again, and felt his chest warm with how dazed Geoff looked: flushed cheeks, his eyes a little unfocused, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Daud had a mind to relieve him of that duty, but then he’d have to let go of him, and he did not want him to come yet. He fit so perfectly between them, and Daud between his thighs. He licked his lips, slick with spit, and ran his tongue over Curnow’s shaft again for another taste. He mouthed at the head, dipping into the slit with his tongue. Corvo had to hold on tighter when Geoff hissed.

“Daud,” Curnow sounded out brokenly. “ _Corvo_.”

Corvo grinned, lazily, lifting his face from where he’d been sucking bruises into the skin of Geoff’s neck. (For reasons both practical and selfish, Daud hoped Curnow had a few days off after this.)

“Like he said,” Corvo said pleasantly, “I’m lazy at this.” He did fuck up into Curnow more forcefully on the next thrust, breath stuttering out of both of them. “You want more, you know who to ask,” he murmured into Geoff’s ear.

Curnow gave a helpless whine.

Daud, pulling off again, licked his lips before answering. “You can have me, too. But if you want that, you can’t finish when Corvo does.” Another whine. Daud skimmed his thumb over where the blood pulsed under the skin of Curnow’s sweaty, tense thigh. “Geoff? What do you need?” Daud knew what _he_ wanted. He wanted to take him apart. _Take care of him_.

“Both of you,” Geoff gasped, nodding quickly. “But, ugh, I’m gonna need help not coming.”

Daud moved his hand back to his cock, stroking once, up and down the length before clamping down again at the root.

“As you wish,” he said again. Then, he went back down on him, taking him as far as he could, just as Corvo picked up the pace. It felt as though the groan that reverberated through the air came from his own chest.

Corvo did lose his rhythm eventually, chasing his own release — and it might have helped that Daud dug the fingertips of his free hand into Corvo’s thigh to spur him on — and when he did, Daud pulled off one last time to keep Curnow steady… and to watch Corvo as he came. He’d never grow tired of it. Curnow’s cock bobbed with the jolts that went through both of them. Corvo bared his teeth, then buried his face in Curnow’s neck as he shuddered, moaning. Geoff, his back arched, was panting, eyes clenched shut, and Daud wondered whether he was imagining Corvo filling him up, preparing him even better for Daud’s cock. Daud bit his lip. His arousal was coiled so tight inside him he thought he might snap, like a rubber band.

Daud moved back a little, then helped Corvo slide out, soothing Geoff through the bitten-off sounds he made. Reaching again for the bottle of lube, Daud moved up to kiss Corvo over Curnow’s shoulder, sharing the taste with him; and then moved to Geoff himself. Licking into him, he felt the heat of their three bodies combined.

“I can finish you off any way you like,” he murmured: offering one more way out. But Curnow shook his head.

“I want you in me.” He looked dazed with it, eyes so dark with want, his neck and shoulders flushed hot.

Daud hissed his pleasure as he positioned himself and slid inside of him, inch by unbearable inch. He hooked Geoff’s legs over his shoulders, taking some of the weight off Corvo, and then grunted when he felt Corvo’s ankles hook at the small of his back. _Bastard_. He looked up, and Corvo’s expression was smug. On Daud’s next shallow thrust, Corvo exerted gentle pressure, and Curnow swore under his breath. Daud gritted his teeth. It was a battle of wits now.

He moved his hand to lay it on Curnow’s chest, but before he could move completely, Curnow growled, “If you clamp down on my dick again, I _will_ shoot you.”

Daud smirked, but merely smoothed his hand over Geoff’s collar and chest, finding his heartbeat quick, but not erratic. He lowered his arm again, bracing himself on either side of the men underneath him.

“Don’t worry,” he rumbled. “This time, you’re gonna come.”

Not simply fucking Curnow into the mattress — well, the mattress plus Corvo — took all of Daud’s considerable restraint. He let it build slow, slow enough not to tip Geoff over the edge immediately, and then relied on Corvo to take his cues from Curnow pushing back against him. He sank deeper and deeper into him, slick and hot, and found in Curnow only the pleasure of surrender. He surrendered himself, too, and a for a while he lost himself to it. The rhythm, the sensation of someone he cared for ceding control — of taking charge of their pleasure. The roll of their hips, by turns rough or smooth, and the hitch in Geoff’s breathing. When Daud was ready to let his movements sharpen, Corvo added pressure, his thighs tightening around Daud’s waist and heels digging into his back to drive Daud deeper, and Curnow rewarded them with a groan.

“Please,” Geoff keened, clinging to Daud’s shoulders and back.

Daud leveraged himself up to lean in for a kiss, open-mouthed and panting, swallowing up a dozen gasps and curses, and on an upward thrust, he bit down on Curnow’s lip. Curnow arched, and with a mangled cry spent himself between them. Most of it landed on his own chest, but Daud was close enough that it smeared all over his stomach, too. The sight did nothing to cool Daud’s ardour, so he endeavoured to fuck Geoff through it, heat sitting heavy in his gut ready to burst and spread all under his skin, riding out the waves of the other man’s orgasm into his own. When he slowed, then stilled, Geoff was breathing heavily between them, trembling with the aftershocks.

It was a battle, Daud found, not to simply collapse on top of the other two, but they were a tangle of limbs and even blasted good sex was not worth pulling a hamstring. So he held himself up, still braced over Curnow, who was happy to let Corvo rearrange them both. When Corvo lifted Curnow’s legs from over Daud’s shoulders, Daud let himself drop a little, at least so his forehead rested against Curnow’s sternum. He pressed a kiss to the sweaty skin there, and felt hands tangle in his damp hair, but Geoff and Corvo’s. His breath was so hot between them, fanning over Curnow’s chest in heavy gusts.

When Corvo at length conceded that they were getting too heavy, Daud rolled away, half managing to take Geoff with him, and all three of them ended up in an ungainly, panting sprawl across the bed. Absently, Daud noted that they may need a bigger one. Then, he noted that he was getting ahead of himself.

Geoff shifted to turn onto his stomach, and Daud saw him grimace.

“I… need a shower.”

Daud sat up and followed the line of Geoff’s back and further down, and his gut clenched at the sight that greeted him.

“Yeah, you do,” he rasped, not quite prepared himself for how wrecked he sounded.

Corvo, who arguably had expended the least amount of energy, chuckled lowly from where he’d sunk into the pillows.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Corvo and Geoff collected themselves, Geoff surprising Daud by leaning over to steal a kiss before getting up. Daud held him there for a moment before letting him go to clean up. Corvo let his fingertips trail over Daud’s flank, then got off the bed, tugging Geoff along. Daud flopped back onto the bed, taking another deep breath and letting his thoughts wander for a minute. That had been… eye-opening.

He listened as Corvo got Curnow situated in the bathroom, explaining the shower settings and where the towels were if he needed more. Then, there was quiet for a moment, and Daud smiled when he realised that they were probably kissing some more. Eventually, though, they seemed to be able to tear themselves away, and Corvo came back into the bedroom just as the shower turned on.

“Help you change the sheets?” Corvo offered.

Daud nodded. He got up, and reached for Corvo’s waist. Meeting him halfway, Corvo bent down to catch him in a kiss.

“Alright?” Daud asked, then stretched up for another. Corvo hummed against him.

“Always.” Then, Corvo let go of him and turned towards the dresser, still naked as the day he was born. They’d have to clean up, too, before putting any fresh clothes on, but they could turn down the bed proper now.

“How did he seem?” Daud asked while he went to take off the old covers.

“A little dazed,” Corvo said, sounding amused. “Like he can’t quite believe that just happened, but definitely not unhappy about it.”

Daud smiled. “Good.”

Corvo watched him for a moment while unfolding the fresh sheets. “You seem very pleased with yourself.”

“Did all the hard work, didn’t I?” Daud lobbed back.

Corvo grinned. “You certainly did. If he could be persuaded, I wouldn’t mind Geoff passing some of that on to me…”

Daud was about to answer but then realised that the shower had stopped going already. Not wanting Curnow to come back and find them gossiping, certainly not about a _repeat performance_ that none of them had discussed, Daud kept his counsel and kept working, instead. Between them, he and Corvo made quick work of the bedding, and when Geoff padded into the room, a towel slung over his hips and rubbing another over his hair, they were nearly done.

“Be right back,” they told him, Daud taking the soiled sheets into the bathroom to stick them into the hamper and Corvo hopping under the shower ahead of him.

They made quick work of that, too, their clean-up a little less involved, and returned to find Geoff sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a little uncertain. Daud smiled at him and, without much preamble, nudged him further up onto the mattress. As before, Geoff let himself be manhandled, but started a little when he realised that Daud meant for him to get under the covers.

“It’s barely afternoon,” he objected, bemused.

“You got somewhere else to be?” Daud asked simply, unceremoniously rolling him into the middle between himself and Corvo.

Curnow snorted softly, but settled against them, sighing softly when Daud tangled their legs together and Corvo wrapped a heavy arm around his waist; drawing him closer for a shallow press of lips.

And so they stayed in bed for a while, trading kisses and the odd gentle caress. There were moments when Geoff seemed skittish, or at least a little shy, but either Corvo or Daud made sure to reassure him that he was precisely where they wanted him to be. They didn’t talk much, not yet wanting to disturb the quiet air, heavy like a cocoon but not oppressive.

When Curnow’s stomach rumbled, however, he flushed. Daud was halfway ready to roll out of bed to make them all some late lunch or very early dinner, but something in Geoff’s expression held him still.

“I should go,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long week.”

Corvo and Daud’s eyes met over the top of his head, and then Corvo leaned in to press a kiss to his exposed neck. It served to leech some of the newly-risen tension out of Geoff’s frame.

“Of course,” Daud said. “But you’re welcome any time. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner.”

Curnow smiled softly. “Okay.”

“Call us?” Corvo asked quietly.

Curnow nodded.

Daud was sad to see him leave, but content to let him go if it meant he’d take some time to himself and consider his wants. Let him have a think... and a wank, probably. Perhaps he might think of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... thoughts?


	3. Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curnow considers his choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the epilogue! Handing off to Geoff here to tell you the rest.

Curnow did call them, after a few days. He did indeed have some time off, and he used it to consider the fact — and consider in detail — that he had just been bedded by a married couple, that he had enjoyed it, and that when he’d arrived at his own apartment that evening, the place dark and uncluttered by design but most of all empty of _them_ , he’d found what he wanted was to go back. _To do it all over again_ , a traitorous voice whispered, the voice that revealed that sometimes he had an unapologetically one-track mind; but not _only_ for that. He would not go on and moon over them as though he were half in love already, but _perhaps he was_. He barely knew them, not past the fact that he’d forgotten what to do with himself the first time he’d seen them, and that they were reckless and nosy and Daud blamed Corvo for both of those things while being absolutely no better.

But he could see himself falling in love with them, with their strength and their softness as much as their single-minded pursuit of what they wanted. And that was the most dangerous, heady prospect of all. To have all of their attention focused on him, for however long he might hold their interest.

After three days of solitude, he called Corvo’s number. The voice that answered was warm and honeyed and _gasping_ , and it took Geoff a moment to understand that Daud had answered because Corvo was _otherwise occupied_. And that he’d only answered because they’d been _waiting_.

*

Curnow did go back. The first few times he came back, it would always be with the best intentions just to _talk_. To get to know them properly, and for them to understand who he was beyond the investigations and late nights and creased case files; beyond the thing that had made him want to become a detective. But Corvo got that look, or Daud got that look, and then Curnow just wanted to be broken all over again. _Ruined_. He was certainly ruined now, for any other relationship as much as the knighthood. This continued, making a little more progress each time, one direction or the other, and after a few months ( _months_ ), they’d settled into a comfortable routine: when Geoff had a case, he called, and when he could, he came over, and when he closed an investigation, Corvo and Daud rewarded him by devouring the remnants of darkness yet clinging to him. Those first two and something odd months, he never stayed the night. Came close a few times, but ultimately felt like he shouldn’t, albeit the offer, the _invitation_ was in their eyes and their touches and the way they angled their bodies so that he fit between them as though made for them.

Until one day a case turned bad (and then from bad to worse and he made a _mistake_ ) and Curnow found himself close to suspension; and he was on their doorstep before he could talk himself out of it, and he wanted to just be miserable. So Daud pulled him inside and told him it’d be alright, and they made him dinner and they sat and he talked and they listened, and he spent the night for the first time, safe and caught between them. And in the morning, he set his teeth to the juncture of Corvo’s neck and shoulder while Daud watched with eyes dark as flint, assessing.

It made sense for Curnow to keep his apartment in the city, they decided; though they told him they’d never mind if he could come home — _come home_ — only for a few hours each night while working a case. And he knew they didn’t mind what he brought with him on some of those nights: the knowledge of what people would do unto themselves and unto each other, in the name of everything and nothing. The things he’d never understand, and the rest that he understood only too well. That last, especially. But at least for now, sometimes he craved the emptiness of his apartment, when thought of returning to warmth and clutter and domesticity proved overwhelming. (And then there were the nights when he couldn’t get to them fast enough, wanted nothing more than to sink into their embrace and draw little gusts of breath from them that he was learning to use to build a lexicon of affection.)

He met Jessamine and Beatrici, who were the best and strangest of friends, not least for Beatrici being Corvo’s older sister who cared none for his protectiveness of her and who instead treated both Daud and Geoff with exasperated fondness. One evening Jessamine, a little tipsy and draped over the armrest of the sofa next to Curnow, leaned down and stage-whispered: "So when are they making an honest man out of you?"

He laughed — didn’t think to do anything else. It savoured not of bitterness nor longing: he was theirs as he was, and they were his, and there was no paperwork in any registrar’s office to tell it to the world. They knew. It had to be enough.

Curnow also didn't think Daud and Corvo heard that, but they did (or perhaps Beatrici said something, and he might just have to book her for that later) and that night, Daud took him up and murmured in that voice, that low, grating tone that promised him salvation and condemnation both, "Would you have us?"

And there was something in his eyes that told Curnow what he meant by it. That there could only be one thing.

Suspiciously quickly, there was a ring on his finger, and there were odd looks but no questions at the station; and perhaps he wasn’t as good at hiding his happiness as he thought he was, but as long as there was no-one around to challenge it, he won’t make it easier for them to know.

When he went home now — it was _home_ , how could it be anything but — he found Corvo reading his infernal crime novels and Daud making jam. Almost two years had passed since they’d first stood on that porch, on opposite sides of the police line and certainly on the other side of common sense.

He kissed Corvo, warm and welcome, and then went to the kitchen.

“Hello, detective,” Daud greeted him, and he said it in the way he called Corvo ‘honey’ or Curnow ‘darling,’ and there was no question that it meant, ‘you fill the spaces that were void between us, and now we are whole.’ Daud offered him the spoon to taste the jam, and Curnow did so and more besides.

**Author's Note:**

> I love rarepair hell.
> 
> (Starts crying.)


End file.
